


Shut Up and Drive

by 0neType



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Fingering, First Time, Humour, M/M, Minor pining, Pre-Canon, Sex Toys, Soul Sex, Switching, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-26 22:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12068118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType
Summary: Papyrus buys a vibrator.Now if only he could get a chance touseit.





	Shut Up and Drive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [undertailsoulsex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/undertailsoulsex/gifts).



> Happy Birth, Soul!
> 
> I made our ridiculous conversation about vibrators into a fic,,,!!! I hope it makes you laugh and maybe also a little ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) if ya know what I mean.
> 
> Also, I tried to write in the "lowercase/UPPERCASE" way and boy howdy it was a lot more difficult to get used to than I expected ahahahaha I hope all y'all reading enjoy my first (????!!!!!!!! SOMEHOW??!!!!!!!!) foray into classic fontcest B")

Papyrus rushes into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him. His soul is pounding in his chest, thudding through his ribcage to beat against the package he holds pressed to his chest. It’s not often that he gets mail, but this… _this_ he was expecting.

His brother isn’t due home for a couple of hours, even if Papyrus counts the ‘break’ he’s probably going to take at some point during his shift. Sans is predictable like that. Papyrus has his patterns down to a science—he doesn’t have to worry about being disturbed.

He can take his time.

Quickly, he locks his door and sets off towards his bed. He puts the package down on it, eyeing it over carefully. It looks completely innocuous. No labels anywhere and wrapped up in simple, brown paper. It’s completely discreet. No clue at all as to what maybe be hidden inside.

An eagerness thrumming in his bones, Papyrus moves to open it, careful not to tear the paper any more than he has to. He unwraps it thoroughly, folding the undone paper and setting it off to the side in order to reuse it in the future. That done, he looks down at the box that remains.

It’s a black, lacquered wood case with a magnetic clasp on it. He knows as much before even inspecting it because that’s what the specifications had said online when he’d purchased it in the first place. It’s an expensive purchase, but well worth it and he reaches out towards it with a trembling hand, opening it and peering inside.

Instantly, a flush casts over his cheekbones. He knew what he’d see, it doesn’t come as a surprise at all, but… somehow having it here in front of him now is entirely different from working himself up over a period of several days to buy it in the first place.

The box is a starter kit.

Or, at least that’s how the website had phrased it.

There’s a bunch of toys in it. _Adult_ toys. Sexual things that practically make Papyrus’s soul quiver upon seeing them.

There’s quite a variety in it too, considering it was only an add-on to a bigger purchase he’d made. The kit includes lube and condoms and fuzzy handcuffs and candles and monster candy to power though more involved scenes—it’s all sophisticated and mature and Papyrus feels his chest puff up just seeing it. Best of all, every item bears the MTT symbol emblazoned on it, classy as always from the Underground’s most famous celebrity.

The true attraction, however, is the item in the middle.

It’s the whole reason Papyrus bought the bundle in the first place, and he picks his new purchase up with reverent hands. A vibrator, touted by Mettaton himself. It’s has a sleek black design with grey accents and hot pink focus to really bring the whole piece together. He’d had to save up for ages to get this, making sure to keep his purpose for sudden thriftiness hidden from his brother as he did.

And now he finally has it ready in his hands.

It doesn’t take very long for Papyrus to shuck off his clothes. He leaves them strewn about the floor, taking illicit pleasure with being messy in the heat of the moment. There’s a rush of excitement tingling up his spine as he flops down onto his bed, right on top of the covers. He flips face forward, staring down at the melting pool of magic centered in his pelvis.

He doesn’t even have to think before it snaps into the shape of a soft mound, his femurs trembling in anticipation. He’s wet already, just the thought of what he’s about to do enough to make his body warm. With the vibrator in one hand and excitement pounding through his soul, he raises a thumb to flick its switch.

It turns on with a loud, cacophonous buzzing that tears like a chainsaw through the silence and Papyrus feels like his soul almost stops.

He fumbles with the switch, flicking it off and grabbing it tight as it goes absolutely still and silent. He freezes.

He knows that his brother isn’t home and that it’s probably ridiculous to think that anyone outside will be able to hear the noise, but somehow he can’t stop himself from twisting up anxiously about it anyways. He knows that Mettaton is always talking about sex positivity and living life without shame but Papyrus, as Great as he is, still needs a little more time to work up to that. So, he waits for a few long minutes just to be certain and is relieved to find that the house remains silent. Not a peep to be heard save for his own shifting against the sheets. No one comes banging at his front door to demand what he’s doing either, so Papyrus feels that it's probably safe to let himself relax.

He turns the vibrator back on.

Maybe its because he’s calmer, but it  _does_ seem a little less deafening now that he hears it again. It’s still too loud for him to use discreetly when his brother is at home or anything but, for those scant hours he has all to himself, this is perfect. He almost regrets not investing in something a little quieter, but none of the other devices he’d found online had been personally endorsed and branded by Mettaton so, really, what choice did he have?

He considers the shaking device in his hand for only a second longer before brushing away his thoughts.

It doesn’t matter right now how loud it is or isn’t when the house is empty anyways.

Mind made up, he brings the vibrator down towards the slick lips of his pussy, already glistening with evidence of his excitement. The first touch of the vibe to the outsides of his conjured flesh almost make him jolt upright, so dissimilar from what he's used to. There’s a tingling sensation that seems to spread out from the point of contact, deep and pressing, further driving his need for more. It creeps all the way up to his clit, and just that first touch has Papyrus getting slicker at the thought of more.

Eager to experience the full range of what his purchase has to offer, Papyrus brings the vibrator back down to his pussy, continuing to tease along the outside lips and avoiding trailing too close to his clit. He’s learned from previous, more quiet indulgences that it takes him a bit to touch there without it being too much, and he’s happy to wait till some time passes before he applies any sensation directly to the nub of magic.

As it is though, Papyrus is already working himself up embarrassingly fast. It’s nothing like it is with his fingers, where he takes care of himself at a steady pace. He’s not much for dragging things out but even his usual tempo seems sedentary compared to the way the vibrator amps up his need to climax. He’s barely been at it for more than a handful of minutes when the urge to come is pressing at him with desperation. Eager for release, he moves the pink, vibrating head over the top of his clit and lets his head fall back as his body locks up, orgasm crashing through him and pulsing as the vibrator ceaselessly continues to work at his magic.

Papyrus gasps as his climax ebbs, grip slackening enough to let the vibe fall away from his throbbing pussy. He allows himself a few moments to enjoy the pleasure fuzziness of the afterglow before dragging himself up. There’s a soft grin that he can't wipe off his face, pleased as he is with how well his purchase has turned out for him. He's practically humming as he inspects himself and his surroundings.

He’ll need to clean up of course, even though he sort of wants to give it another go. His brother will be home from work in another hour at most and it wouldn’t do to have Sans hear him at it. So, he gives himself a good wipe-down with a clean towel and redresses himself in fresh clothes. He starts to tidy up when the sound of something outside his bedroom catches his attention.

It…

it sounds like…

… _Mettaton_?

Frowning, Papyrus finishes wiping down his new toy and replaces it back into the polished box it came in. He eyes the sheets and decides that they can wait till he’s discovered the source of the noise. With that dealt with, he unlocks his bedroom door and steps outside.

The sound is coming from downstairs.

Soul leaping up in his chest, Papyrus walks up a little further, peering down from the top of the railing.

There, in plain view on the couch, sits Sans, munching away on a bag of popato chisps. He doesn’t seem to have heard Papyrus come out of his room with how loudly the TV is blaring. He appears to be engrossed in whatever is on, and Papyrus is uneasy at the thought of having somehow missed the din of the program while up in his room.

He was distracted, yes, but surely if Sans had been sitting here and listening this loudly to something he would’ve heard it?

“SANS,” he calls down from the landing, willing his voice not to waver with nerves, “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”

His brother doesn’t seem at all surprised to hear his voice. He simply pauses from eating his snack to give him a grin, “just watching some tv, bro. i’d ask you what was up, but evidently it’s you, so.”

Papyrus huffs, making his way down the stairs to avoid any more wordplay about his position in relation to his brother, “YOU’RE HOME EARLY… WHEN DID YOU GET BACK?”

Sans shrugs, nonchalant, “a while ago.”

A flare of anxiety lights in his soul at that and Papyrus attempts to smother it immediately. There’s no way Sans could have heard the noises from his room. If he had, he’d have said something about it, wouldn’t he?

He… he must’ve just come home.

“HOW LONG AGO?” He asks, trying not to seem to desperate to know the exact answer, “I DON’T THINK UNDYNE WILL APPROVE OF YOU CUTTING OUT EARLY.”

“m’not cutting out early,” Sans says, “just cashing in on the vacation days i’ve got saved up. ended up takin’ the whole week off.”

“VACATION DAYS?” Papyrus scoffs, momentarily distracted, “WITH ALL THE UNSCHEDULED BREAKS YOU TAKE, I DIDN’T THINK YOU’D _HAVE_ ANY.”

“heh, well i guess that just means that even undyne is weak to my charms.”

Papyrus rolls his eyelights as his brother, “AND WHAT CHARMS ARE THESE? THE TERRIBLE JOKES OR THE KETCHUP STAINED HOODIE THAT YOU REFUSE TO LET ME WASH.”

“both.”

“UGH, YOU ARE IMPOSSIBLE.”

Before he can really dig into scolding Sans on his frustrating habits however, the program on TV switches out for a commercial. Suddenly, Mettaton is on screen in his handsome box form, a glitter clustered, pink apron tied around him and a kitchen at his back. His voice drowns out all conversation as he speaks.

“ _Tired_ of all your day-to-day work?” He says, and Papyrus goes stiff in his seat, “Need something to soothe your _aching_ muscles?”

Oh no.

“Well, there’s no reason to fret, darlings~ I have _exactly_ what you need.”

He knows what commercial this is.

He scrambles for the TV remote, bouncing around in his seat as he frantically presses his hands at the cushions, searching all around him. His brother watches him, confusion and a trace amount of amusement playing about his features. The seconds wind down as the commercial plays on but the blasted thing isn’t anywhere on the couch.

“With the brand new, MTT Brand _Personal Massager_ , you too can wind down in the way worthy of a star~!” His idol crows and Papyrus resists the sudden urge to fade into the background as the image on screen shifts focus.

And there it is, center view, the brand-new vibrator that Papyrus has up in his room in full HD gloriousness.

They’re not marketing it that way, of course. It’s still too early in the day for that, despite the fact that certain MTT channels are marked ‘adult’ from the start. But beyond the razzle dazzle of clips of Mettaton using the ‘massager’ on his arms and legs— “he doesn’t even _have_ muscles.” Sans quips—it’s very obvious what the true purpose is for the device on screen.

 _Especially_ paired with the way Mettaton winks and toys with it, finishing the commercial off with a patented moan of ‘ _ohh yesss~_ ’.

And even if it _wasn’t_ obvious to those watching on TV, it would’ve been obvious to anyone with an UnderNet connection.

Papyrus certainly knows what it is. There’s no doubt in his mind that Sans does too.

He can feel his face burn as his brother continues to watch.

“SANS…” he says, unable to stop the words from coming out in his anxiousness, “WHEN DID YOU COME HOME? IT SEEMS STRANGE THAT YOU’D RETURN AND IMMEDIATELY START WATCHING TV WITHOUT EVEN DROPPING BY TO GREET ME.”

“what, can’t a guy watch some quality Underground entertainment after a hard day at work?” But that answer is just not enough.

“ _SANS_.” Papyrus says, soul pounding in his chest at the thought of being found out before he’s really even had a chance to enjoy everything his new toys have to offer.

Will he have to put them all away? Or will he just have to suffer through endless amounts of teasing from his brother once he discovers Papyrus’s secret.

Or, worse.

Will he find out the real reason Papyrus went out and bought the items in the first place? Desperate to distract himself from how much he wanted his—

“look bro,” Sans sighs, rubbing self-consciously at the back of his neck, “i just figured i’d give you some privacy. you clearly didn’t expect me to be home so early, and when i came back you—”

Panicking, Papyrus flings the first excuse he can think of at his brother, “IT WAS A REMOTE-CONTROL CAR!”

“i, uh…” Sans blinks at him, “… what?”

“A REMOTE-CONTROL CAR,” Papyrus repeats, more confidently this time, thankful for his stroke of genius, “A TOY I PURCHASED. I WAS… TESTING IT OUT WHILE YOU WERE AT WORK.”

“a… toy car…”

“YES.”

“you were testing it…?”

“YES.” Papyrus says again, resisting the urge to fidget in his seat. He rarely lies, and rarer still to Sans. It feels awkward doing it now but it’s necessary in order to make sure his brother doesn’t get the wrong—or, technically, right—idea. He doesn’t _actually_ know if his brother heard anything at all, but the doubt is enough to make him want to nip it in the bud while he still has that option available to him.

 “so, let me get this straight,” Sans watches him, bewildered as he speaks, “the reason you were locked up in your room when i came home was because… you were testing out _a remote-controlled car_ alone in your bedroom?”

“THIS IS NOT A DIFFICULT CONCEPT TO GRASP, SANS.”

His brother gives him a long look, “bro, listen—”

“ANYWAYS,” Papyrus interrupts him, thinking quick, “I HAVE DECIDED THAT CARS ARE MY NEW PASSION. IT IS LIKELY THAT I WILL BE TESTING OUT FURTHER CAR RELATED ACTIVITIES DURING MY FREE TIME.”

“uh…”

“DO NOT MIND ANY NOISES THAT YOU HEAR COMING FROM MY BEDROOM IN THE FORESEEABLE FUTURE, BROTHER.”

“and by noises you mean… car… noises…”

“OF COURSE. WHAT ELSE COULD I POSSIBLY MEAN.”

Sans stares at him for a moment longer before finally looking away. He shrugs his shoulders and goes back to his bag of chisps, “yeah, ‘course. sorry bro, my bad.”

And that was that.

Or, least it should have been.

The fact of the matter is, Sans is home for the week, no work to distract him, and Papyrus feels uncomfortable with the idea of using the vibrator with him somewhere nearby.

He’s not naïve. He knows that his excuse won’t hold up to scrutiny if he actually tries to get off while his brother’s in the house. And, besides, there is something inherently embarrassing about pleasuring himself while his vibe loudly proclaims his actions to the world. Even if he waits till Sans goes out to Grillby’s or to the store, he can’t time it well enough to make sure he gets to enjoy himself before his brother gets back.

He just can’t risk it.

… not _yet_ , anyways.

If he can make his brother buy into this… make Sans unerringly believe that he was _absolutely serious_ about the sounds being a toy car… then maybe it’d be enough.

All it really takes it a swift purchase on the UnderNet and priority shipping to have the item delivered overnight. So, when Sans comes back from a brief foray to the bar the following day, Papyrus is ready and waiting.

As soon as his brother comes through the door, Papyrus let his purchase zoom out in front of him.

“whoa, what the heck?!” Sans yelps, stumbling backwards as a brand new, remote-controlled car zips past him.

“OH, I DID NOT SEE YOU THERE, SANS.” He says, just a hint smug at his ingenious plot, “MY APOLOGIES.”

Sans stands in place, clutching leftovers from Grillby’s in a brown paper bag while he stares between Papyrus and the car.

It’s MTT brand—only the best for the Great Papyrus, of course—and everything about it is as lovely as the expensive new toy Papyrus had bought himself prior to this. If he really was the automobile enthusiast he claimed to be, this would’ve been on his wishlist from the start. Beyond all that though, the best thing about it is that it’s loud and noisy.

Not _quite_ the same as his vibrator, but more than enough to confuse his brother into believing him if he plays his cards right.

“BUT I SUPPOSE THIS IS JUST AS WELL SEEING AS HOW YOU WERE SO BEFUDDLED BY MY NEW PURCHASE YESTERDAY.”

His brother remains silent, staring at the car as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. It almost makes Papyrus smirk. He has Sans right where he wants him.

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO TEST IT OUT BROTHER?” He offers magnanimously, “AS A TOY CAR CONNOISSEUR, I’D RECOMMEND THE SECOND FLOOR. THE FLOORING THERE IS MORE EVEN. YOUR ROOM IS LIKELY A HIDEOUS MESS THOUGH, SO YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO USE MINE. THAT’S WHERE I’VE BEEN DOING THE MAJORITY OF MY CAR RELATED ACTIVITIES ANYHOW.”

The offer seems to be enough to draw Sans’ attention back towards him. Sans’ expression is hard to read but Papyrus can’t say he sees any suspicion in his features. Instead, his brother just gives him his usual smile, “nah bro, that’s alright. i’ll pass.”

Papyrus frowns, lowering the remote in his hands, “NOT EVEN GOING TO TEST IT OUT A LITTLE?”

“m’kinda beat actually,” Sans says, yawning as he says it, “been plannin’ on taking a nap, to be honest. you, uh… you feel free to play with your car though. i’m sure i’ll sleep right through the noise.”

_There is it._

A perfect, _golden_ opportunity to use his vibrator again.

His brother may not know it, but he’s practically handing this opportunity to him on a silver platter. Sans isn’t just saying he’ll sleep right through it to be polite—his brother sleeps though the _loudest_ of noises; Papyrus’s morning wake up calls, the annoying dog causing havoc around the house, _everything_. If he wants to be careful about it, he can take his car back up to his room, play with it till sufficient time has passed for Sans to conceivably fall asleep, and then replace it for his vibrator. His brother would never know.

It should be easy.

“alright, i’m gonna head on up,” Sans says, as mellow as ever, “see ya at dinner, paps.”

It should be just.

That.

Easy.

… but.

As Sans trudges up the stairs, enters his room and shuts the door, Papyrus stays rooted in place at the bottom floor with his remote-control in hand.

In fact, when Sans eventually emerges from his room, literal _hours_ later, Papyrus is _still_ downstairs.

He’d spent the time Sans slept fixing dinner and watching reruns of old MTT favourites on TV. The car is next to him on the couch when his brother rejoins him, but Sans doesn’t mention it and Papyrus leaves it be as well. They sit down, they have a nice dinner—Sans tells him he’s improved markedly from the last meal he made—and it’s all excellent except for that boiling frustration inside Papyrus that continues to rise each time he has to stop himself from using his new-found method of stress relief.

He just can’t risk it with Sans around.

It's not just the embarrassment of his brother catching him at something so personal. It's not even that he and Sans have never really had a proper conversation about this sort of thing beyond a cursory explanation of what skeleton monsters could do with their magic. It's the chance that Sans might question him about it. That he might ask why Papyrus wants this, or why he prefers it to finding a partner instead. And… he can't tell Sans that. He can't.

And so, the next day of Sans’ torturous week-long vacation is much the same. 

His brother lingers and Papyrus frets, but there’s nothing he can do to change his situation into something more favourable. He spends the day vigorously cleaning and cooking and his brother chats with him casually through it all. The frustration is almost reaching a spilling point when, blessedly, Sans disappears.

Papyrus isn’t entirely sure what he left for, doesn’t even know if his brother has gone out long enough for him to actually _do_ something about the sexual dissatisfaction winding up inside of him, but he rushes to his bedroom the moment he discovers he’s alone. He's been putting it off for so long that at this point he doesn't even care that he has no idea when his brother will come back. He can be quick. He can get at least some sort of tension to bleed out of him before Sans returns.

But he’s only just pulling out the box from where he has it stored inside his closet when there’s a knock at his locked door that makes him jump.

“Y-YES?” He calls, mentally reproaching himself for feeling so disappointed when he should’ve known better than to think Sans would be gone for any extended period of time.

“wanted to show you something, paps.” His brother responds from outside.

Giving the box in his hands a longing look, Papyrus puts it back into his closet with a groan before returning to his door. He unlocks it and pulls it open, seeing his brother standing there and looking up at him with a grin.

“got you something.” He says, eyelights practically sparkling with excitement.

He pushes past Papyrus and into the room, taking a seat at the edge of Papyrus’s bed and settling a small, gift-wrapped box into his lap. He pats the space next to him and inclines his head. Papyrus raises a browbone but takes the proffered space.

His brother passes him the box, almost giddy with enthusiasm, “open it.”

Papyrus is bemused but does as Sans says. He carefully pulls back the wrapping paper, making sure not to tear it, as prudent as he had been with his own purchase two days ago. Slowly, he works the package open, blinking down at the revelation.

“A… MODEL CAR.”

“yeah,” Sans says, wide, bright grin on his face, “i felt bad about not appreciating your new pastime the other day, even after you specifically asked me to try out your new remote-control car, so i figured i’d do something to make it up to you.”

Papyrus stares at the car, clutching it tight in his hands. Its bright, red, plastic-y shell glares back at him mockingly from inside its box.

“I…”

His brother watches him, searching his face, “what’s wrong? do you not like it?”

“IT’S…” Papyrus makes an effort to steady his voice, “IT’S FANTASTIC, BROTHER. THANK YOU. I… HAVE NO WORDS.”

Sans looks relieved, “well, i mean it’s not _that_ great, but i’m really glad you like it. and hey, i promise to take more of an interest in your hobbies from now on too, alright? no more taking naps when i could be spending time with you.”

Papyrus watches his brother, scouring his face for any trace of a joke.

Sans seems entirely sincere.

Papyrus feels his whole body burn with guilt and shame, “THAT… WOULD BE LOVELY, SANS. I WILL LOOK FORWARD TO IT.”

His brother leans into him at that, resting his head against Papyrus’s side.

Weighted with self-reproach, Papyrus leans back, sharing in the quiet with Sans.

 

 

The next day, Sans buys two more model cars for Papyrus and pairs it with a small pack of plastic cars for kids. Papyrus accepts it with grace, even going as far as to play with the smaller cars while is brother is in the room so that Sans can see how much he appreciates the gesture. And he does, really, more so because it’s his fault his brother even thinks he wants it in the first place.

The day after that, Sans brings in a whole stack of car magazines.

Some are from the librarby, some are clearly the type that have been gathered from the dump and have passed through numerous hands. Sans spends the day reading them in plain view of Papyrus, seated on the couch, not a care in the world. When Papyrus fidgets close to him, wary about the magazines, his brother leans in to show the books off. He promises that he’s learning as much as he can to make sure he’s up-to-date with all the knowledge Papyrus has on the subject.

Papyrus feigns interest as best he can, sweat breaking out over him at having to pretend he knows anything at all about cars that most monsters wouldn’t. And when Sans reads him a few articles from the magazine instead of his usual bed time story, Papyrus squirms with dissatisfaction under his sheets, regret palpable in the air around him.

But none of that—none of _any_ of that—compares to the ‘gift’ Sans bestows upon him on the very last day of his impromptu vacation.

Papyrus stands dead still in his room, his eyelights not quite sure what they’re seeing.

“so whaddya think, bro?”

He can’t find the words.

He works his jaw uselessly a few times but no sound comes out.

“couldn’t find a place that was willing to ship all the way from new home to snowdin, so i just went and picked it up myself.”

Sans… got him a new bed.

Sans got him a _race-car_ _shaped_ bed.

“… papyrus?”

“I…” He forces himself to speak aloud, pushing past the absolute mortification, “I… DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN.”

The expression on his brother’s face is soft, “like a dream come true, huh?”

A nightmare, more like, “THAT’S… CERTAINLY ONE WAY TO PUT IT.”

“i’m glad you like it, paps,” Sans says, smiling gently at him, “i wanted to do something special to end the week with. i know i took days off to spend more time with you since i’ve been so busy lately, but somehow it still seems like it ended too quickly and that we didn't spend enough of it hanging out.”

Papyrus snaps his gaze back at his brother, “WAIT. YOU TOOK THAT TIME OFF… FOR ME?”

“yeah, ‘course i did. it’d been a while since you and i just hung out and… i don’t know… guess i just missed you, is all.”

In an instant, Papyrus goes from feeling that ever pervasive sense of guilt in the background to it springing up forefront and flooding him with the reminder that he's the worst brother around.

Sans took time off to spend with him and Papyrus had spent the whole time trying to get rid of him instead. He should’ve spent the week making up for every moment the two of them couldn’t get their schedules to match up enough to enjoy each other’s company. Not to mention that his brother had gone through all the trouble of trying to show an interest in his fake hobbies just because he thought Papyrus genuinely enjoyed them. And for what?

No. He couldn’t let Sans’ efforts go to waste.

He had to savour the gifts Sans gave him fully.

Immediately he reaches down and swoops Sans into a hug, lifting him fully off the ground, “THANK YOU, BROTHER. FOR EVERYTHING.”

There’s a burst of warmth in his soul as his brother chuckles and wraps his arms around him, hugging him back just as tight, “anything for you, bro.”

The rest of the night Papyrus devotes to making sure he showers his brother with as much attention as possible. Sans tells him terrible jokes and Papyrus meets him with witty rebuttals, prompting more and more laughter from his brother with each breath. They sit down for a movie at the end of the night and go their separate ways for bed with souls light and smiles on their faces.

That’s the thought Papyrus tries to hold onto the next day as he sits in his race-car bed with his vibrator in hand.

The week was over and Sans was finally back at work—Papyrus would have all the time he needed to finally, _finally_ , use his toy to its full potential.

Except.

There’s something incredibly awkward about pleasuring himself in a bed shaped like a car that he had received through a series of convoluted lies to his one and only family.

Even without the lies plaguing him, it was still a race-car bed. Somehow touching himself in it seems… inappropriate.

In the end, he’s too conflicted to do more than stare at the sleek device before returning it to its place in the closet. The feeling just wasn’t right and, even though his frustration was ramped up to incredible levels, turning on the vibrator and hearing the noise it made while laying in a bed that had literal _wheels_ was sort of killing the mood entirely. It’s obvious to him now that if he’s ever going to get any use out of his toy, he’s going to have to make things go back to normal.

He needs to come clean about it with his brother.

So, when Sans comes home from work, Papyrus decides it’s high time to have a talk. Preferably starting with a request to take all the gifts back.

He doesn’t want to make his brother feel bad about it, though. Maybe he’ll just explain that his interests have evolved. It’s no fault of Sans’ after all that the Great Papyrus has many tastes and this one was fully explored in a short amount of time.

And then, once _that_ was out of the way, he’d talk to Sans about… more _personal_ matters.

He waits for his brother to shuck his shoes off by the door and change into his slippers before he patiently waves Sans over to sit with him on the couch. His brother frowns in concern but comes and sits down immediately. He peers into Papyrus’s face, trying to make eye contact even as embarrassment and nerves keep Papyrus from doing the same.

“everything alright, bro?”

“YES… YES, I…” He takes a second to gather himself, “SANS, I WOULD LIKE TO DISCUSS YOUR RECENT GIFTS.”

His brother raises a browbone at that, curious, “… yeah?”

He fidgets in place, unsure of how exactly to broach the subject. Failing to find a good segue, he blurts it all out in a rush of breath, “I FIND MYSELF THINKING THAT MAYBE THEY ARE BEST RETURNED.”

“oh…” Sans’s voice is so quiet that it tugs painfully at Papyrus’s soul, “… all of them?”

“YES. ALL OF THEM,” Papyrus nods, trying to be firm despite how much he wants to reassure his brother that he appreciates the thought. He meets Sans’ gaze at last, unable to stop himself from looking up to gauge his brother’s reaction, “ESPECIALLY THE BED.”

“huh…” Sans says, an indecipherable look on his face, and Papyrus is so forlorn with the thought of letting his brother down that it takes him a bit to process the next sentence, “bed not giving you good _vibes_ , bro?”

“NO, NO, IT’S NOT THAT, I JUST—”

There’s a pause.

Papyrus processes.

Sans is looking up at him, a wide, wide grin on his face and eyelights bright with laughter. There’s a smugness to his expression that makes the heat rise to Papyrus’s face and a giddiness to his posture that makes him reel.

“WAS THAT—” Papyrus starts and stops. His soul is pounding, and every second he stays quiet is a second that Sans spends shaking with the tremors of barely restrained laughter, “SANS, YOU—

His brother can’t seem to hold it back anymore, erupting in a fit of hysterics. Tears spring up in Sans’ sockets as he laughs, leaning over on himself as he snickers endlessly.

“YOU _KNEW_.” Papyrus accuses, mortified with what that means for everything that’s happened.

 “ _oh god_.” His brother pants between peals of laughter, “i’m—m’sorry, pap, i just—i couldn’t _resist_.”

“COULDN’T RESIST?!” Papyrus feels hot all over. He knows, distantly, that this is probably something he’ll look back at and groan at, shaking his head with amusement but for now, there’s a childish need in him that screams for _payback_ , “DO YOU HAVE _ANY_ IDEA HOW MUCH _I’VE_ BEEN RESISTING?! I’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK ABOUT MAKING TOO MUCH NOISE AND YOU FINDING OUT! AND NOW I DISCOVER THAT YOU KNEW FROM THE _START?!_ ”

Sans laughs so hard that he snorts, holding around underneath his ribs as he continues to guffaw.

“THOUGH…" An idea springs to mind, "I SUPPOSE AT LEAST NOW I WON’T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HIDING IT, WILL I?”

His brother’s laughter putters off and he wipes the stray tears from his sockets, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

With a flash of something playfully retaliatory, Papyrus grips onto his brother’s arm, “IN FACT, NOW THAT YOU KNOW, MAYBE I OUGHT TO SHOW YOU WHAT I’VE _REALLY_ BEEN ENJOYING RECENTLY.”

Sans gaze fixes on where Papyrus has his arm tight in his grasp, “pap, wh—”

Papyrus tugs his brother up by the arm till he’s standing and proceeds to walk, Sans yelping and being dragged along behind him. At the foot of the stairs, he turns to sweep his brother into his arms, ignoring the way Sans protests as he’s taken upstairs. It takes mere moments before they’re in Papyrus’s room, and he drops Sans into his bed without ceremony. His brother bounces as he lands, falling on his back and scrambling to get up as Papyrus walks over to his closet.

“u-uhm… bro?”

Papyrus takes out his pristine black box. After so many days of looking at it filled with yearning, it’s a thrill in its own right to rifle through it. He peers over it the contents and eventually decides that simple is best for this first go around. He takes out a packet of lube, the handcuffs and, of course, the main attraction.

He turns around with all the items in hand and Sans’ eyelights instantly snap up to them, face flushing a pretty shade of blue.

“what, uh… whatcha got there, paps?” Sans croaks, voice breaking on a nervous laugh.

“PLEASE, SANS,” He rolls his eyelights as he approaches his brother, kneeling onto the bed and crouching towards him, “I WON’T FALL FOR YOU BEING OBLIVIOUS AGAIN.”

“papyrus, i…” Sans trails off as Papyrus tosses the items just to the side, still within arm’s reach on the mattress. He keeps only the handcuffs on his person, twirling them around in a manner he’s seen before on alluring videos in the raunchier parts of the UnderNet. He takes pride in the way it draws his brother’s line of sight as he does so.

“I BELIEVE SOME PUNISHMENT IS IN ORDER.”

He’s never practiced that purr in private so he’s pleased when it comes out just the way as he intended. Sans blushes a bright cyan at his words, sockets widening with shock. His brother seems frozen in place as Papyrus leans over him, carefully taking his hands and cuffing them together.

“NOW, BROTHER,” Papyrus says, inordinately gratified with how well everything is going, “DRAW OUT YOUR SOUL.”

Sans startles at the command, “w…what?

“YOU SOUL, SANS.” He repeats, patient for his brother’s rapidly dwindling senses.

Sans seems flustered, “i… i don’t know if… pap, i’m not…”

And the hesitation on his face immediately makes Papyrus reconsider what he’s doing, a pulse of worry going through him that he’s overstepped his bounds. He’d gotten so caught up in the moment, he hadn’t even thought to ask if Sans was okay with this. He’d just jumped on the opportunity to have this with his brother. Like some sort of fantasy come to life.

What was he even _doing?_

Papyrus immediately slumps, more nervous and unsure about his actions than he’d been at the start.

“IT’S. NOT NECESSARY OF COURSE,” He says quickly, looking away from him, “I JUST WANTED TO—I WOULDN’T HURT IT OR ANYTHING. I JUST THOUGHT THAT MAYBE I WOULD—IT’S FINE THOUGH, I SHOULD’VE ASKED YOU FIRST, WE REALLY DON’T HAVE TO DO ANYTH—”

His blabbering is interrupted by a pure white glow in the corner of his vision.

Papyrus turns his head back to see Sans’ soul shining brightly out in the open, hovering just above his t-shirt. It pulses and gleams vibrantly, striking in the dimly lit room. His brother has his head turned to the side, attempting to shield his burning face with his bound hands.

“IT’S BEAUTIFUL, BROTHER.” He says, reverent, wondering why Sans wouldn’t want to share such an exquisite part of his being.

The wondering only lasts for an instant though, because as soon as he holds it, he’s flooded with a wave of deep, unyielding love that courses through his bones and hits his own soul with a crash. The feeling is so powerful that it makes him bend forward, curling in around the soul in his hands. He knows then, without a doubt, that his brother’s feelings for him are rooted within his very core, identical to his own for Sans. He's been worrying about rejection for no reason at all. The genuine push of emotion spilling from within Sans' soul makes the beginnings of tears press at his sockets, and Papyrus is only very dimly aware that his brother immediately tries to tamp down on the out-pour.

“s-sorry, sorry, i—”

Papyrus leans over him in an instant, wishing he could banish every reproachful emotion Sans’ soul is signalling away. He turns his brother's face towards him with his free hand and stares. Sans doesn’t meet his eyes, face still flushed and expression pained.

Papyrus presses a chaste kiss down against his teeth, “I LOVE YOU TOO, SANS.”

He doesn’t have his soul out to touch his brother’s—that’d be too much, too soon; they hadn’t even gone on a proper date yet! They were skipping so many steps! —but he lets the feeling radiate out of him anyways as he gently strokes the surface of his brother’s soul. He focuses on the feelings he’s let build up inside of him over so long, all the love and appreciation and reassurance, and let’s them flow through the connection he has with his brother’s core in his hands.

He knows that Sans feels it when he sees the tears start to spill down his brother’s face.

“SHH, NONE OF THAT,” Papyrus scolds lightly, drawing his thumbs more purposefully over the rippling surface of Sans’s soul, “PERHAPS PUNISHMENT WAS TOO HARSH A TERM FOR WHAT WE’LL BE ENGAGING IN. I’D RATHER OUR FIRST TIME WAS A LITTLE SOFTER TO BE HONEST.”

His brother seems to be speechless, too overcome with feeling to really voice any one in particular. But his soul is honest and it pulses with a longing so intense that Papyrus nearly misses the small nod Sans gives him. He smiles winningly down at his brother, ready to reassure him of his adoration, and continues to massage the soul in his hands. He rubs small circles with his thumbs along the surface, watching as his brother squirms underneath him, making sure his touches are light enough that it doesn’t do more than tease.

He may have read about these things and researched them for his own use beforehand, but there’s something entirely different about doing this with a partner. Papyrus can’t help the full-bodied shiver that runs through him as Sans groans at a particularly bold stroke, body arching up into him. Papyrus feels warm all over, face flaming with the heat of his magic and the image of his brother writhing beneath him more than enough to get him worked up.

“SANS…” he whispers, and it only takes one look downwards to see the surface of his brother’s soul now so slick that it’s dripping. The sight of it assures him that his brother is more than warmed up and ready for what he has in store, and Papyrus stops stroking the soul in order to prepare. His brother takes issue with that, immediately squirming beneath him when his fingers cease in their motions.

“god… god, papyrus, don’t s-stop… why did you—”

Just barely away from the surface of Sans’ soul, Papyrus flicks on the vibrator.

“AHNN— _FUCK!_ ” Sans shouts and Papyrus is so entranced with the way his brother’s whole-body arches up as he screams, soul nestled safely in his palm and emanating intense pleasure, that he doesn’t even remember to chide him for his language.

The vibe isn’t even properly touching his brother’s soul and Sans is on the verge of release. It’s on the lowest setting, the simplest pulse, but there’s something to be said for brushing vibrations over the core of a monster’s being. The ripples through the air, just the scantest space away from the dripping soul in his hand, are more than enough to have his brother twisting in the sheets under him begging for more.

“papyrus,” Sans gasps, bound hands scrabbling for purchase in a way that has his mouth running dry at the sight, “papyrus—pap, please.”

And, maybe it should be embarrassing but, just seeing Sans like this is enough to overwhelm him. It feels like his whole body has shut down, watching his brother beg for him with so much longing in his voice. There’s not much about this experience that isn’t entirely new for him, but something tells him that this look, this image of Sans pleading for release, is something that’ll never grow old no matter how many times he sees it.

“ _papyrus_.” Sans pleads again, voice strained and body quaking, and that’s finally enough to drive him back into action.

He goes back to rubbing at Sans’ soul, this time with a set goal in mind. He lets his phalanges dance across the surface, pouring in all his love and warmth and admiration for his brother into every stroke. Sans is actually straining underneath him now, tears of pleasure streaming down his face and saliva trailing out of his open mouth.

Careful but deliberate, just as Sans seems to reach his peak, Papyrus lets the vibrator touch the surface of his soul.

The reaction is instantaneous.

His brother comes with a cry, his soul thrumming with something damn near like an explosion as he finishes, a radiant surge of magic shooting through it and into Papyrus’s core. The sense of completion is so strong it leaves his knees weak, bliss and serenity rocking through him like an echo of what his brother just experienced. Sans’ soul continues to drip steadily down his hand and Papyrus gathers himself enough to gently lick it clean with his tongue as his brother comes down from his orgasm. He’s careful to keep his laving as light as possible, the experience leaving his brother sensitive all over.

Once done, he places a warm, affectionate kiss to the front of Sans’s soul, watching his brother shiver and blush in response, before replacing it back underneath his rib cage. He undoes the handcuffs and rubs at Sans’ wrists just in case they’re sore, even though they weren’t on for very long. He’s just about to praise his brother for a job well done when Sans leans up on his elbows and gives him a look.

“what about you?”

Papyrus face heats and he’s quick to wave his brother off, “NONSENSE, THAT WAS MORE THAN ENOUGH FOR THE GREAT—”

“you’re glowing, bro.” Sans says, no hint of mockery in his tone. In fact, if there was any sort of tone to it at all, Papyrus would say there’s something more like wonder in it instead.

And it’s true. Papyrus had been feeling the liquid heat of his magic coalescing since the first time Sans moaned his name, but the feeling only got stronger as his brother neared his climax. By now, Papyrus’s pussy has manifested entirely without his say-so, and he crosses his legs to hide it’s dim light from view.

“THIS… THIS ISN’T AN ISSUE. YOU LOOK WORN OUT AND I CAN TELL THAT YOU PROBABLY WANT TO SLEEP SINCE THAT TOOK A LOT OF OUT YOU, SO—”

Sans puts his hands on Papyrus’s shoulders and twists him around until their positions are reversed. He pushes him back till Papyrus’s head hits the pillow beneath him.

“never too tired for you, paps.” Sans whispers, voice soft and alluring in a way that makes Papyrus’s pussy throb and his face consequently flush in embarrassment.

“S-SANS…” He stutters as his brother hooks his fingers into the bottoms he’s wearing and drags them down past his knees.

“shit, papyrus,” Sans breathes, staring down at him. The scrutiny makes Papyrus’s face burn even hotter and he resists the urge to throw his hand up over his skull to block the sight. He holds back only because the devotion on Sans’ face makes his soul squeeze with a sweet ache that he never wants to forget.

When his brother looks away, it’s to start searching around them for something. Papyrus watches him, confusion and anticipation making his soul thud hard against his chest. After a moment, Sans finally turns back to him, smile on his face and the packet of lube from the box clearly in view. Papyrus feels heat rush through him at the sight. He’d meant to use that on Sans earlier.

Somehow, in the midst of his brother’s begging and moaning, he’d forgotten.

Sans brings the packet up and tears it open with his teeth, sharp canines tugging it open with ease. Papyrus feels wet enough already, but he doesn’t voice the opinion aloud. Especially because just seeing that little display makes his pussy slicken further and he had to resist the urge to moan aloud. Though, Sans might not have even noticed his protest if he had, so focused as he pours the lube out into his bony palm and runs the fingers of his left hand through it, coating them thoroughly.

He brings his phalanges back down and places them tantalisingly close to Papyrus’s folds, just barely short of touching him.

“you ready, bro?”

Papyrus answers by shifting his hips down, enough to inch Sans’ fingers into him. It’s barely anything at all, but he moans brokenly at the sensation anyways, filled with a want that coats every note. His brother is quick to draw his fingers back out.

“SANS.” He says, and most decidedly does _not_ whine, “STOP TEASING.”

“not teasing,” his brother insists, pushing one slick phalange properly into him, “just don’t wanna hurt you.”

“IT’S NOT ENOUGH.” He pants and, okay, maybe he _is_ whining a little now, but only because they’ve been at this for longer than Papyrus ever draws out for himself. His body has been pent up for a week and, ever since the moment Sans came, it’s been begging for a release of its own.

Sans slides another finger into him, pumping slightly. It’s better than before, thicker and more filling inside his passage, and the wet glide of Sans’s thumb against his clit makes it increasingly pleasurable. But the slickness of the lube and his natural magic combined is enough that all he craves is more to fill him up. His brother strokes encouragingly at Papyrus’s femur as he pushes in a third phalange with the rest, pushing all three deep enough to drag a long keening from Papyrus’s throat. As he squirms, Sans begins to fuck Papyrus on his fingers with a true rhythm, pulling out and pushing back in with slick, wet noises that make his face burn.

“how’s that?” Sans asks, still soft, still concerned.

“I’M—” Papyrus starts, phalanges grasping at the sheets and sockets shutting closed, “FASTER SANS. _PLEASE_.”

His brother obliges, and suddenly Papyrus feels so full of Sans that he can’t remember what it was like to be empty. Each thrust barely leaves him before he’s packed to the brim once more, cutting off his breath with every push back into him.

“SANS…” He pants, voice breaking with need, “S-SANS…!”

He hears his brother swear under his breath and, immediately following it, the thrusting stops. Papyrus twists in place, shaking his hips in an effort to encourage his brother to move again, but he remains motionless. At the very least Sans’ doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to remove his phalanges. Instead, they remain inside him, joined moments later by the familiar, soft roundness of something being placed near his clit.

That’s all the warning he gets before Sans turns the vibrator on.

The sensations flood through him instantly, strong and pulsing as his brother teases the head of it around his clit while still pounding into Papyrus with his fingers. It’s too much after so long being denied, the week of build-up edging him right to the end. So, when Sans drags the head of the vibe over the top of his clit and whispers at him— “come for me, pap.”—it’s not surprising that he does just that.

Papyrus comes on command, whine cutting off in his throat as his breath knocks out of him and reflexively clamping down hard around his brother’s phalanges inside him.

Sans doesn’t let up, continuing to work him through his orgasm and dragging it out for as long as it’ll go. The pulses rock though him, carrying him over in waves that seem like they’ve last forever if only his brother keeps him grounded just like this.

When Sans finally turns off the vibrator and pulls his fingers out with a _schlick_ , Papyrus feels like his body is still tingling everywhere, a pleasant buzzing all over his bones. His brother wipes off his phalanges on his shorts—gross, but now’s not the time for admonishments—before clambering up to press a soft kiss to Papyrus’s mouth and flopping beside him.

“THANK YOU.” Papyrus says to him, voice hoarse but ever polite. There must be _some_ sort of standard to ending these types of encounters after all.

But the platitude only makes Sans chuckle as he leans into him, contentment in his every motion, “feel like i should be the one saying that.”

Papyrus is more than agreeable, “I SUPPOSE THE GRATITUDE SHOULD GO BOTH WAYS. I’M IMPRESSED WITH BOTH OF US.”

“yeah…" Sans laughs lightly, frame jostling with it and his expression gentle as he meets Papyrus’s gaze, "thanks, bro.”

Something about the soft, fond way Sans says it, with his eyelights looking so closely at him, all vulnerable and open, makes Papyrus immediately shy away. He draws his sight off to the side, face hot. He attempts a half-shouldered shrug, “IT WAS THE LEAST I COULD DO TO REPAY YOU FOR ALL THE, UHM… WONDERFUL GIFTS.”

Sans chortles anew at that, amusement in the scrunch of his sockets, “speaking of—you really want me to get rid of all of 'em?”

“IT’S NOT STRICTLY NECESSARY, I SUPPOSE. I’M GROWING RATHER ATTACHED TO THE BED, TO BE HONEST.”

“heh,” Sans presses up against him, curling into his body, “yeah, it’s perfect for _riding_.”

“WELL, IT’D BE ‘DRIVING’ NOT ‘RIDING’, UNLESS YOU'RE A PASSENGER I SUPPOSE, BUT IN ANY CASE, IT’S NOT _ACTUALLY_ A CAR SO I DON’T SEE HOW—” he squints, pulls back his head enough to level a glare at his brother, “… _REALLY_ , SANS?”

“i’m sorry.” He snickers.

“NO, YOU’RE NOT,” Papyrus sighs, but there’s a smile on his face as he says it. He turns more fully onto his side to face his brother, happy to bask in the warm look of affection Sans is watching him with, “BUT THAT’S FINE. I’M MORE THAN WILLING TO TAKE YOU UP ON THE OFFER OF RIDING IN ANY CASE.”

He can see Sans flush, embarrassment overtaking his features in an instant. His brother drags his hands up to cover his face before turning it facedown into the pillows.

Papyrus laughs and holds him close.

**Author's Note:**

> you should always clean sex toys between partners, don't be gross like sans smh
> 
> (tho maybe souls are inherently clean? how do monster sti's even work, someone hit me up with those sweet sweet 1 AM headcanons)


End file.
